Of Melodrama, and A Matter of Interest
by Squaresque
Summary: The day Remus and Tonks met, they didn't exactly fall head over heels in love with each other. At least not at first. R & R, and tell me if I should extend it :
1. Chapter 1

**Writer's block. **_**Again**_**. I need ideas! IDEEEAAASSSS. (You guys could be reeealllly nice and give me some :D) Um, more to the point, do drop a review to tell me whether you like it and whether I should continue, because I am self-aware enough to realize there isn't much RLNT... yet. HEH. THANKS MUCH!**

"So, this is it, huh?"

Sirius turned around to scowl at his friend, who raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Show a little more enthusiasm, will you, Moony? Maybe some gasps of awe? Praise for my generosity? Anything?"

Remus sighed and examined the gloomy interior of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place again. Unfortunately for him, Sirius interpreted the sigh correctly and gave Remus a sharp jab in the head with his wand.

"Look, I'm not exactly jumping for joy about coming back to this godforsaken place either."

"I'll pretend to be excited, Sirius, if that's what you were hoping to elicit by causing me great pain. What's behind those curtains?"

"Ah, no, Moony, don't touch–"

The filthy hangings flew open to reveal the awful, shrieking portrait of Mrs Black. Remus hastily scrambled backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet in his eagerness to get as far across the corridor as possible.

"HALF-BLOODS! HALF-BREEDS! HOW DARE YOU BEFOUL THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK!–"

"SHUT UP, _MUMMY_!" bellowed Sirius back with equal hatred. With a huge effort, he wrenched the curtains shut again and turned away in disgust.

"Never liked to do anything by halves, as you heard," he snorted in contempt. "Really glamorous, isn't she? Rolling eyes, flying spittle and all."

Remus was just about to respond when the door flew open, revealing two figures silhouetted against the over-bright sunshine.

"Who's there?" growled a familiar voice, and the pair let out a relieved breath.

"It's just me and Sirius."

And without quite knowing how it happened he found himself pressed up against the wall, wand pressing painfully into his windpipe and electric blue eye inches from his own.

"_What th_–" he managed to choke out.

"Prove it," snarled Moody.

"Remus John Lupin, werewolf, ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, known as Moony to James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, member of the Order of the Phoenix, and _please_ let go of me, Alastor, you're going to kill me."

The Auror relinquished his vice-like grip on the front of Lupin's robes and dusted his hands off, leaving the sandy-haired man in front of him to cough and catch his breath.

"Paranoia," muttered Sirius from several feet away, and promptly feigned nonchalance as Moody turned to glower dangerously at him.

"Did you say you're a _werewolf_?" asked a voice, and Remus glanced down to see a young witch staring at him with unconcealed curiosity.

Somewhat annoyed by her very direct question, he immediately chose to take offence at her crop of shocking pink hair, which he found decidedly inappropriate.

"I can assure you that I'm _not _a spy for Voldemort," he said with a slightly forced smile, observing how she winced at the name.

She opened her mouth furiously but Moody cut across her.

"This is Nymphadora Tonks, she's an Auror at the Ministry as well, and a new Order member, obviously."

Tonks flashed him a wide, infuriating grin.

"What sort of a name is _Remus John Lupin_, anyway?"

"What sort of a name is _Nymphadora_?" asked Lupin, polite as always, but making the temperature in the dank house drop by another ten degrees.

"What do you think of the place, Mad-eye?" ventured Sirius hopefully, ignoring the wintry smiles now plastered on both their faces. Maybe if he pretended not to notice, he wouldn't be dragged into the mess.

"Awful," grunted Moody with his customary amount of tact. "Looks like it belongs to the darkest wizards of all time. Where did Dumbledore get this place anyway?"

"Er, it's my home."

"Oh. _Oh_."

Moody cleared his throat loudly and stumped off, muttering about "checking out the place". Sirius hurriedly followed suit.

"Well, ladies first," said Lupin, gesturing down the dark corridor. Tonks shot another death glare at him and swept off, half-jogging to catch up with the two older men in front.

"No_ way _am I sticking with _him_," she declared in a voice just loud enough for Remus to hear. "He's _boring_. His name is boring, his hair is boring_, _his clothes are boring,he isn't a murderer, he hasn't got a spinning eye–"

"He's a werewolf," Sirius pointed out reasonably.

Tonks chose to wave this aside dismissively.

Unfortunately, in the middle of her dismissive wave, she neglected to watch where she was going and promptly tripped over her own feet.

Sirius winced at the loud thump behind him.

"This _is_ flat ground, you know," came a light voice, and Tonks quickly scrambled up, having no desire to be further humiliated.

Remus was highly amused; the slight smile on his face was now genuine and much of the sub-zero aura that had previously emanated from him had vanished.

Tonks' brain was, however, preoccupied with trying to churn out a witty retort.

"Shut up."

That was a start.

Thankfully, distraction arrived in the form of Sirius, who had just cautiously opened one of the ornate doors, let out a yelp and backed into Moody, who swore very, very, vulgarly.

"_KREACHER?! What in the blazes are you still doing here?!"_

An ancient house-elf wearing what looked like nothing more than grimy rags threw the group a look of loathing.

"Master is back, Kreacher sees, along with his filthy friends, if only Kreacher's mistress was still here, she would say–"

"Shut up, Kreacher," snarled Sirius, and Kreacher clamped his mouth shut, casting another murderous glance before shuffling off and up the staircase.

"I _knew_ we were missing a head on that wall," he said, disgust etched on every feature of his face. The others present thought it best to leave his cryptic remark at that.

After the rather dismal tour of the house, the small group adjourned in the dining room, which, Kreacher aside, was probably the only part of the house without other strange and undesirable inhabitants. Tonks, who was examining the Black crockery with great interest, walked into a chair and would have gone on to tumble straight over it had Remus not grabbed her by the scruff of her jacket.

"Let go," she snapped, her hair turning an aggressive red. Remus blinked but released her, and appraised her with renewed interest as she gave the offending chair a vicious kick.

"I'm sorry, it's just that your accidents are rather predictable," he shrugged apologetically. "As I understand it, they tend to happen when you're walking, and sometimes when you're not." He smiled sympathetically. "I'm sure it happens to everyone. Occasionally."

He paused and cocked an eyebrow.

"As a matter of interest, Nymphadora, does the word 'gratitude' feature in your vocabulary?"

"As a matter of interest, Remus, do the words 'your life is about to be drastically shortened' sound vaguely threatening at all?"

"No, because I think the word 'werewolf' threatens in a rather less vague way," he said easily, but Tonks caught the bitter smile that stretched his lips taut for a split-second.

She dropped her gaze.

"Thanks," she muttered sullenly.

"Aw, widdle Tonksie has finally learnt a new word!" grinned Sirius, throwing an arm over his cousin and affectionately ruffling her spiked hair. "Well done, Moony. I see the relationship between the two of you stretching far, far, beyond, into the future."

And he broke off, hand outstretched, gazing dramatically into the middle distance.

Remus rolled his eyes.

"Padfoot?"

"Hm?"

"Can the melodrama, please."

"Hey! Constructive criticism, remember, Moony? Constructive! Not criticism! Besides," he added mischievously, "how do you know my prediction won't come true? I _am_ brilliant, after all. Not to mention dashingly handsome."

"Well, I suppose if you looked at it in a really warped manner..." Remus ruefully admitted.

The once-derelict house echoed with their friendly banter throughout the afternoon, with topics swerving from Moony to St. Mungo's mental patients in seemingly unrelated directions. But Tonks and Remus (though they'd sooner have a conversation with Kreacher than admit it), couldn't help wondering if Sirius and his more-than-slightly wrong prophecy had even the tiniest chance of being right.


	2. Chapter 2

**HI. My writing is sucking badly right now, sorry. SO BUT NEVERTHELESS STILL ANYWAY, READ. Love all you guys who reviewed the first one! Again, suggestions are really muchly appreciated. (I did try adding more RLNT. Seriously! But as I said, it just... didn't come out.) **

**Soooooo... 2****nd**** chapter's up! Tell me if I should continue writing (and progressing relationships, etc :D)**

Nymphadora Tonks was protesting furiously.

She was protesting because she had to be on guard duty outside the Department of Mysteries _again_, for the third night in a row.

She was furious because she had to be on guard duty outside the Department of Mysteries _again_, for the third night in a row, with Remus Lupin.

"Aw, Mad-Eye, c'mon," she wheedled hopefully, "surely you can spare one night! You're a lot better than some werewolf! You have a magical whizzing eye. You don't have the tendency to transform and start chomping on everyone in the vicinity. You've got killer looks that would probably scare away any potential intruders."

"I'm afraid you're under the impression I'm eager about this assignment as well," Remus said mildly. "I'd be most happy to allow Alastor to take charge of you."

"Well, rather you than me, Lupin," growled Moody, and Tonks shot him a reproachful stare.

He bent closer and muttered in an undertone, "Oh, and make sure she doesn't trip over anything."

"Of course."

Moody eyed him carefully, then added at his usual volume,

"It's harder than it looks."

***

Tonks grumbled under her breath all the way to the Ministry, throughout the elevator ride and down the corridor leading towards the Department. By the time they actually reached the door, Remus was understandably irritated.

"You know," he finally interrupted, "you're the first person who has succeeded in annoying me in the span of less than half an hour."

He paused.

"Besides Sirius, that is."

The image of the shaggy-haired mutt with an infuriating grin ten sizes too big for his face suddenly surfaced in his mind. He groaned inwardly.

Tonks held her tongue long enough to glower at him, then continued on her relentless tirade.

"Nymphadora, please, don't be so _immature._"

"_Don't– call– me– Nymph– a– dora," _she hissed back through clenched teeth.

Remus sighed and sat down against the smooth, pitch-black door, closing his eyes. The full moon was in a week's time, and the disturbingly loud, clumsy girl next to him wasn't doing anything to improve his nerves.

As if on cue, the disturbingly loud, clumsy girl took a step backwards, somehow lost her balance and fell, with a resounding thud, on the cold, hard floor. Her short, violet hair turned as dark as the wall behind her, and flopped to her shoulders as she swore angrily.

Remus stared at her, eyebrows raised.

"How do you manage to do it?"

"I'm a Metamorphagi, idiot," she snapped.

"No, I meant, how do you manage to fall when there's nothing in your path?"

"Shut it, Remus," she muttered dangerously, glaring at the amused grin tugging at his lips.

His dark grey eyes were twinkling in a distinctly maddening way.

Cursing herself for even noticing, she shifted gingerly until she was next to him, and slumped back.

"So, since I'm stuck here with you, Mr Abnormally Good-natured Werewolf, why don't you tell me how you became so Abnormally Good-natured?"

Remus chuckled.

"Let's just say I don't believe reciprocating people's unkindness with equal cruelty will solve my... furry problems.

"I know how painful each transformation is, and the grief it brought my family. And I wouldn't inflict that sort of torture on any other person."

He smiled bitterly.

"Of course, Fenrir Greyback isn't like that. I won't elaborate. But I guess... you could say I _chose_ to be abnormally good-natured."

Tonks' curiosity was piqued in spite of herself.

"What's it like? Y'know, your monthly... thingy?"

She tried to ignore how inappropriate this sounded.

Remus chewed his bottom lip for a moment, watching her with an unreadable expression.

"It really sucks."

After this very un-Remus-like remark, the pair lapsed into an awkward silence which lasted for several hours. Tonks head began to droop and Remus had to prod her several times, fighting a smile when she sat bolt upright and mumbled blearily, "Not Nymphadora, mum!"

"Why did she name you that, anyway?" asked Remus, as Tonks rubbed her eyes and gave a huge yawn.

"Don't ask me to understand my mother's warped logic, but I suppose when your name is _Andromeda_, you've got to find a vent for your issues."

She scowled and rummaged in her pocket, unearthing a large bar of chocolate.

Remus tried not to look. He really did. But he couldn't help hearing the crinkle of the wrapper as she tore it off, and the intoxicating aroma of processed cocoa beans and sugar just seemed to waft through the air.

_Darn it._

Unfortunately, Tonks had caught his hopeful glance. Smirking to herself, she broke off a large chunk.

"D'you want some?"

Remus didn't trust himself to speak. Instead, he attempted a casual inclination of the head that turned out more like multiple desperate nods.

"Well, dream on," Tonks snickered, and popped the whole piece into her mouth, chewing very deliberately.

His face fell immediately, and he looked dolefully at the luscious, dark brown substance graced by delicately rumpled silver foil. His stomach rumbled audibly.

That was when Tonks chucked the entire bar into his lap, making him blink in surprise.

"Wha–"

"I was kidding, Remus, so don't even bother with that disgusting puppy-dog look."

Remus spluttered in outrage.

"I didn't– how could you _suggest– _I would _never–"_

Tonks chortled and he immediately clamped his mouth shut in a dignified manner, but not before taking a sizeable bite of chocolate.

"Funny, you don't seem like the outraged spluttering kind," she grinned. "But I suppose you're not really a predictable person.

"I mean, what sort of lame werewolf prefers chocolate to human flesh?"

***

By the time Kingsley came to relieve them, Remus and Tonks' relationship seemed to have progressed from glacial smiles to friendly conversation, at least.

"So, your nickname's Moony, right?" Tonks was asking.

"Yes, Sirius and James had... very good taste in names."

"Well, you know what I think?"

"I don't really want to," Remus admitted.

"I think," Tonks declared, apparently not hearing him, "that Loony Moony has a very catchy rhythm."

"Hi, Kingsley!" greeted Remus with unnatural brightness, trying his best to ignore the mutters of "loonymoonyloonymoony" behind him.

"Remus, Tonks," nodded the older Auror, "you two can leave now, your shift's over."

Mumbling his thanks, Lupin sprung up and hastened down the corridor, keen to get back into the sunlight and away from the eerie department. Tonks gave Kingsley a pat on the shoulder and followed suit.

"Y'know," she commented as she caught up with Remus, "I've always thought Kingsley was really cool. He's one of the best Aurors ever, but he wears an earring! _An_ earring. A _single, gold, hoop, earring_. Not two earrings! _An _earring. I–"

"Tonks," said Remus kindly. "I think you've got your message across."

Tonks whacked him on the arm but duly stopped talking. Suppressing a smile, Remus stepped into the welcoming elevator.

He knew that they both knew that each other knew that in the past eight hours, they had, through bickering and arguing, somehow come to a mutual understanding.

A mutual understanding that they both were far from perfect people, and that they'd have to learn to live with it or go crazy trying.

Some lesson.

Still, there was no way he was going to be able to live with Tonks, Mrs Black and a troll umbrella stand all at once.

He'd go crazy trying.


End file.
